


Alliances

by Mickey_McKeown



Series: Surviving [2]
Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sasha Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25823092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mickey_McKeown/pseuds/Mickey_McKeown
Summary: Section D and the FSB team up to find a traitor.
Relationships: Callum Reed & Sasha Gavrik, Ruth Evershed/Harry Pearce
Series: Surviving [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872895





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another of my Spooks fics from years ago. This is a sequel to ‘Surviving’, which I recommend reading before this to understand some of the character dynamics.

The air was cold on the steps of the National Gallery and Harry drew his coat tightly around him.

"You are early."

Harry started slightly, then frowned, annoyed at himself for letting someone sneak up on him. He turned, meeting the eyes of the FSB officer with an irritated stare.

"Why did you call me here, Sasha?" he asked, dispensing with pleasantries. The young Russian looked stressed, tension was evident in the lines of his shoulders and there were dark circles under his eyes, showing his obvious exhaustion.

"The FSB delegation in London is being targeted," he replied without preamble. Harry's eyebrows rose. "We have had five agents killed on operations in the last three weeks. These operations were all non-contact and only MI5 and the FSB knew about them."

Harry frowned. "You believe that we may have a leak?"

Sasha sighed. "My father believes that the leak is within MI5. I don't know-it could be from either agency. He believes that, due to the cooperation talks, the FSB and MI5 should work together." Harry's mouth opened to reply with an emphatic negative. A small smile tugged at Sasha's lips. "Just a suggestion. And not mine, so don't shoot the messenger." The smile faded. "I would appreciate it if you would consider it, though. I must get back to work. I will call you with any developments."

Harry nodded. "Okay. I hope this works itself out."

Sasha grimaced. "So do I."

Harry watched as Sasha walked away. It was amazing how things had changed since the disastrous incident with Elena Gavrik. With Ilya Gavrik back in Russia and Sasha in charge of the FSB presence in London, things had become far more relaxed between Harry and the Gavriks, and the FSB had become allies. Even so, he had been surprised to receive the call from Sasha, telling him to go to Trafalgar Square. No indication of the reason had been given; Sasha had not wanted to give details over the phone.

Harry sighed. It had only been a month since the events at the MOD bunker and Ruth was still on medical leave, though she would return to the Grid in the next week. He would be glad when she did; the temporary replacement was good but not...Ruth. He smiled at the thought of his fiancée. While at home, Ruth had not been idle. Instead, she had been planning their wedding with unexpected enthusiasm. The venue and guest list were already sorted, she was currently working on the invites and the reception.

He sighed again. He would have to talk this FSB matter over with her tonight, but first he had to discuss it with his team.

DDDDDDD

Section D were all gathered in the meeting room, staring at Harry expectantly. He cleared his throat.

"The FSB delegation in London have had five agents killed in the past three weeks, all on low risk operations. Only MI5 and the FSB were aware if these ops." Harry took a breath and glanced at each agent. "It is believed that there is a leak in one of the agencies. Sasha told me that Ilya Gavrik believes that the leak is in MI5."

The replacement analyst, Emily, piped up. "What does he believe?"

Harry sighed. "He doesn't know. Sasha is leading the investigation into this matter. He relayed a suggestion that MI5 and the FSB run a joint investigation. We are the only ones aware of the potential leak at the moment."

"Did you agree to the joint investigation?" Dimitri asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not yet. I told Sasha that we would think about it. I would like your opinions."

Erin frowned. "I don't know. A joint op with the FSB? It could be risky."

"Yeah, but if we have a leak, that could be even more risky," Callum put in. "It can't be good for diplomacy if FSB agents are getting picked off in London because of a leak in MI5."

Dimitri nodded. "Callum's right. The Russians won't be too happy if we let their agents die because of a lack of cooperation."

"But we'd have to be very careful about the amount of information we share," Emily said, frowning. "Personally, I'm not as ready to trust them as you all seem to be."

The four regular Section D officers shared a look. The new analyst had not been happy about the possibility of the FSB being their allies.

"What do you think, Harry?" Dimitri asked.

Harry thought for a moment. "You all have valid points. I think that we should help, however I will discuss it further with the Home Secretary."

"And Ruth," Callum added. At Harry's look, he suddenly discovered that the table was a fascinating object and stared down at it, avoiding his boss's glare.

"Okay, that's everything," Harry told them. "I will tell you if anything happens."

They all filed out and Harry sighed. He could see them discussing the matter, Erin and Emily arguing against the suggestion, Callum and Dimitri arguing for it. He knew that Callum had become friends with Sasha in the past month and he had no doubt that this fact at least partially influenced his opinion. He had been surprised at Dimitri's view, however, as the former SBS officer was usually less charitable towards foreign agencies. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He really needed to talk to Ruth.


	2. Chapter 2

When he returned home that night, Ruth greeted him with a huge smile.

"I booked the venue for the reception and the caterers," she told him happily. "I'm going to send out the invitations tomorrow."

Harry smiled. "You've had a more productive day than me. I need some advice."

Ruth's brow furrowed. "Okay. What's up?"

They sat on the sofa and Harry looked at Ruth, who waited attentively. "Sasha suggested a joint investigation to find a leak in MI5 or the FSB. They have lost five agents in the last three weeks on low risk ops that only MI5 and the FSB knew about. Sasha's investigating the FSB side, he seemed worried. Ilya thinks it's a leak in MI5."

Ruth nodded her understanding. "And you think that a joint op is risky but diplomatic."

"Yes." Harry sighed. "It also might prevent a lot of deaths."

"Were the others for it or against it?"

"Split down the middle. Erin and Emily think it's too risky. What do you think?"

Ruth thought for a moment, weighing the idea in her mind. "I agree that sharing information could be risky, but in this case it might be worth it. If there is a leak in MI5, that could cause far more problems than a joint investigation."

"I'll talk to the Home Secretary tomorrow. I have no doubt he'll agree-maintaining good relationships with our allies and all that."

Ruth smiled. "Good. So now that politics are out of the way, how about something more...fun?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

She leaned forward and kissed him, a long, deep, passionate kiss. Harry's arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer to him.

"This," Ruth murmured as she broke this kiss momentarily.

Harry smiled, leaning in again. "I think 'this' will be just fine."

xxx

Harry walked over to the bench and sat down, watching the people around him in the park. He checked his watch, he had thought he was late, however Sasha was later still. He allowed himself a moment to relax. Towers, as expected, had been in agreement with the proposed joint operation. Harry had told the Section D team that it was proceeding and they were now waiting to be briefed after his meeting with Sasha. The FSB officer was now fifteen minutes late.

As Harry checked his watch again, Sasha sat down next to him with a muttered apology about his lateness. Harry took a moment to observe the young Russian. If possible, he looked worse than the day before. He looked almost ill and Harry was reminded that he had only been out of the hospital for two weeks, not enough time for him to have recovered from the bullet wound that had nearly killed him.

"Did you consider the suggestion?" Sasha asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I talked it over with my team and the Home Secretary and they all agreed to a joint investigation."

Sasha sighed with relief. "Thank you. It will be just your team, yes?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "How many officers do you have working on your side?"

Sasha looked away. "Just me. I know none of the agents assigned here, most are new recruits. Any of them could be the leak, I don't know who I can trust."

Harry nodded in understanding. "I need to brief my team. It would be useful to have you there."

"Okay," Sasha agreed.

"They'll meet us at a safe house." Harry stood and wandered a short distance away to make the call. "Dimitri, I need you all to meet at our safe house in Southwark for a briefing. I will be there in about half an hour."

Dimitri agreed with no questions asked and Harry hung up. As he made his way back to the bench, Sasha stood, wincing briefly as he did so. Harry eyed him critically; Sasha noticed and stood a little straighter under the scrutiny.

"They're on their way," he informed the Russian. They walked together to the park gates. "I'll give you a lift." When Sasha started to protest, he added, "You won't do anyone any good if you fall asleep at the wheel." Sighing, Sasha acquiesced and followed Harry to where he had parked his Range Rover.

As they drove towards Southwark, Harry glanced at the FSB officer in the passenger seat. "We will figure this out, Sasha," he reassured him.

Sasha grimaced. "I just hope no more of my agents die before we do."

xxx

When Harry and Sasha arrived at the safe house, the rest of Section D were already there. They looked up from the files and laptop screens as they entered.

As they sat at the table, Harry indicated the replacement analyst. "This is Emily Morris, our analyst. Emily, this is Sasha Gavrik."

Sasha gave Emily a curt nod of acknowledgement. "Where is Ruth?" he asked.

"Still on medical leave," Callum answered before Harry could. "She's got another week before she comes back."

"Right, shall we get started?" Erin suggested. "We know that five FSB agents have been killed in three weeks all on low risk operations that only MI5 and the FSB knew about."

"What were they working on?" Dimitri asked.

"Two were doing surveillance. A journalist who has a tendency to dig too deep into things. One was surveillance of an anti-government protester and the others were accompanying a politician to the airport. They were killed on the way back." Sasha sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as though to try to ward of a headache.

"How were they killed?" Emily inquired.

"The first three were shot. The other two were killed when their car exploded." He stood and began to pace. "No attempt was made to hide the bodies of the first three. I don't know why. Why he or she didn't hide the bodies or why they were killed in the first place. What motivation did they have?"

Harry nodded. "A good question. It depends on which organisation had the leak. If it's the FSB then money, perhaps? If it's MI5 then maybe a grudge? Another question is why those agents?"

Sasha shook his head. "Once again, I have no idea. I've looked at their files but there doesn't seem to be a connection. I can pull up their files here if you want."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "Callum and Sasha, go through the files again. The rest of you, check out the marks in the ops."

Sounds of agreement came from around the table. Sasha handed Erin a list of the marks and she left with Dimitri and Erin. Harry moved to a seat next to Callum. He had a feeling that this would be a long investigation.


	3. Chapter 3

The three agents left at the safe house crowded around Callum's laptop. Sasha had accessed the files of the five agents killed and they were going through them with a fine toothed comb, trying to find some connection between them all.

Callum glanced at Sasha as he was typing. "You know, you look like death warmed up," he commented. At Sasha's raised eyebrow he added, "Just saying."

Sasha's lips quirked in a small smile. "You try working for thirty six hours straight. See how good you look then."

"You're kidding, right? I always look perfect."

"Whatever you need to believe."

Harry cleared his throat. "Okay, children. Files?"

"I'm looking, but Sasha's right. There doesn't seem to be any connection between them," Callum said, sighing. "They're all from different places, this one's from Moscow, she's from Volgograd, he's from...somewhere I can't pronounce."

Sasha leaned closer to the screen. "Makhachkala."

"If you say so. The point is, there's no way they met before joining the FSB. None of them went to the same university; two didn't even go to university. I don't get why these agents were targeted." Callum frowned and ran a hand through his hair, a look of frustration on his face. "And, to cap it all, I can't read their FSB records because they're all in bloody Russian."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Callum's outburst. The man was frequently objectionable and snarky but he very rarely lost his temper. "We'll just assume that Sasha didn't miss anything when he went through the records."

Sasha rolled his eyes. "No, Sasha didn't miss anything and I'm sitting right here." Harry and Callum both looked at him with raised eyebrows. "We're still at square one. There's no connection between any of them, and we're wasting time while whoever it is could be targeting more agents." Exasperation and frustration were clear in his expression, warring with the exhaustion already etched there.

"Maybe whatever it is isn't in the files. Or maybe it was opportunity," Callum suggested. "What were they like as agents?"

"I don't know," Sasha sighed. "I only worked with three of them, and then only for a week. They were all new recruits."

Callum nodded. "It says that in the file. They all came to London three weeks ago-the week the first two were killed. Who was heading up the FSB team while you were in the hospital?"

"Pyotr Markov," Sasha replied.

Harry noted the frown that appeared on his face as he spoke. "You didn't approve?"

Sasha hesitated, as though considering his words. "Markov is not the ideal FSB agent. His ability is rather doubtful." Seeing Callum and Harry's enquiring looks, he elaborated. "I imagine that the FSB and MI5 have similar recruiting criteria and tests. Markov only passed the physical aspect of the test. The intellectual aspects were rather...lacking. I didn't think he should be allowed to lead the delegation. But he was chosen while I was unconscious so I didn't have much say in it."

"Markov..." Harry mused. "I know that name."

Sasha smiled mirthlessly. "His father is a highly ranked official in Russia. Even higher than my father. Which is how he managed to get into the FSB."

"I assume you outrank him, though?" Harry asked. When Sasha relied in the affirmative he looked pensive. "How does he feel about that?"

Sasha smirked. "He was very keen that I should take a couple of weeks medical leave."

"Leaving him in charge," Callum concluded.

"Exactly."

"But that didn't happen, obviously."

"No. I heard about the two agents and didn't want to leave Markov to investigate. We'd lose the entire delegation if I left it to him. So, I decided that medical leave could wait." Sasha was interrupted by his phone ringing. He answered it. "Da."

A brief conversation in Russian followed, too rapid for Callum to follow, even if his Russian wasn't limited to 'yes', 'no', 'hello' and 'vodka'. Sasha hung up and stood, walking a short distance away. He slammed his hand against the wall with enough force to dent the plaster. His other hand flew to his side, pressing hard against the healing bullet wound and a low hiss of pain escaped his lips. Slowly, he returned to his seat and collapsed into it. Harry stood and went to crouch beside the FSB agent.

"Are you alright?" he asked. The concern was evident in his voice and the hand that he rested on Sasha's shoulder.

Sasha nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Another agent?"

Callum was momentarily thrown but then surmised that the phone conversation must have been about another attack. Harry glanced over at Callum quickly, then spoke to Sasha again, this time in Russian. Though Callum was unable to understand the words, the inflection was definitely one of concern. Harry was clearly worried about Sasha and, Callum reflected, he wasn't the only one. The case was clearly taking its toll on the FSB officer; he evidently hadn't slept in far too long, and, although Callum knew very little of medical matters, he was sure that not sleeping was not good when one was recovering from a near fatal injury and subsequent infection.

Harry had finished speaking and Sasha's reply was tinged with annoyance. Callum caught the word Markov.

He decided it was time to speak up, having felt distinctly left out of the conversation. "What happened to this agent? And what is it with Markov? You don't seem to trust him at all, beyond him being a bad agent."

Sasha glanced at Callum. "The agent was shot outside our headquarters. He wasn't even on an assignment; he just went outside to have a cigarette." Sasha took a breath. "I knew him. He joined the FSB at the same time as me. We worked together on a couple of cases in Russia. He saved my life once. And as for not trusting Markov, you're right, there is more to it than him being a bad agent. He hates the British. And the Americans, although that I can understand. He has been linked to a few nationalist groups and he's always talking about the good old days of the Soviet Union and Communism. His father has silenced the more radical claims but even so, I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him."

Callum whistled. "Oh shit. So he's got to be suspect number one?"

"But why kill Russian agents? It makes no sense. He's a nationalist; surely he would try to kill British agents instead." Sasha sighed. "Believe me, I would love it to be Markov just so I could legitimately shoot him, but I don't think he would do that."

Callum opened his mouth to reply but he was interrupted by Harry who was staring at the laptop screen.

"Show me the file for the latest agent killed," he ordered.

Callum pulled the file up and Harry studied it for a moment then smiled widely.

"We have our pattern."


	4. Chapter 4

Sasha and Callum stared at the screen for a few moments before looking back at Harry.

"I don't know about Ivan the Terrible, but am I blind or just stupid? I can't see any pattern," Callum frowned.

"Ivan the Terrible? That's the best you can think of?"

"Would you prefer Trotsky? Or Lenin? Stalin?"

"I'd prefer you to f..."

"Enough!" Harry cut Sasha off before he finished his reply. The two agents were acting like children, no, worse. Teenagers. "Look at the ages of the agents and when they joined the FSB."

They looked. Callum's jaw dropped. "How did we not see this?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Because you were too busy insulting each other. Each attack has been on older or more experienced agent s than the last. The youngest and most inexperienced first."

"The easiest to kill," Sasha added.

"Hold on a sec," Callum put in. "If that is the case, you said that this last attack was on an agent who joined the FSB in the same year as you." Sasha nodded, indicating that Callum should continue. "Well, how many others here joined in the same year?"

Sasha thought for a moment. "None. Why?"

"Because, it stands to reason that you'll be next on his hit list."

Harry nodded. "He's right Sasha. You need to be careful."

Callum expected a lot of reactions to this revelation, annoyance, anger, maybe even fear, but not the smile that appeared at Harry's words.

"Good. Then maybe we will finally find out who is behind this."

"I'm sorry, did you not hear us properly? He's going to try to kill you!" Callum exclaimed.

Sasha's smile widened. "I'm not easy to kill."

He was spared Callum's scathing reply by the return of Erin, Dimitri and Erin. They were followed by one more person.

"Ruth!" Harry exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Ruth smiled. "I thought I would take Sasha's example and cut my medical leave short. This case seemed too interesting to miss."

Harry smiled widely, visibly glad of Ruth's return. He and Callum went over to her, welcoming her back with hugs and, in Harry's case, kisses.

Callum cleared his throat when one of the kisses went on a little too long. "Get a room you two. We're trying to conduct a serious investigation here and we can't do that with the two of you playing tonsil tennis in the background." Harry broke the kiss to glare at his young techie. Who would soon be an ex-techie if he continued. "On second thoughts, you're the boss. Go ahead."

He returned to the computer where Sasha was watching with a smirk. "Coward," he muttered so only Callum could hear.

"I'd like to see you talk to your boss that way," Callum hissed back.

"I am the boss," Sasha reminded him.

Callum's only response to that was to continue typing with one hand, the other holding two fingers up at the Russian whose smirk only grew.

"Have you made any progress here?" Erin asked, all business.

"We've discovered the connection between the agents who were killed," Harry informed her.

"That's good," Erin said, sounding relieved. "There was nothing on our end. The marks had nothing in common and none of them were equipped to kill FSB agents."

"That's okay," Callum told her. "We don't think it had anything to do with the marks. All of the agents killed were young, but Harry noticed that each one had joined the FSB earlier than the last. The latest joined in the same year as Sasha. We think he could be next on the hit list and the stupid prat wants to use himself as bait." He shot a glare towards Sasha who studiously ignored him.

"That's not a bad idea," Emily said thoughtfully.

Erin nodded in agreement. "He has a point, Callum."

Callum looked around, noting the nods of agreement from the MI5 agents, his eyes finally resting on Harry for support. Harry shook his head. "They're right. It might be the only way to stop this."

"He's not exactly defenceless," Dimitri added. "He's a highly trained FSB officer, not a civilian."

Callum snorted. "Am I the only one seeing the bigger picture? Yes, Sasha's a good agent. But, in all probability, so is the killer. He or she will know exactly how well trained he is and plan for that. It's not a good idea, it's suicide."

"I have to say, I agree with Callum, Sasha," Ruth said softly. "This does sound like suicide. You don't know when they'll try to kill you, or how. There are too many risks here. It would be different if it were a controlled meet but it's not."

"I'll just be more cautious," Sasha argued. "I know the risks but it could be worth it if we can find out who's behind this."

Ruth sighed. "Can I talk to you outside, Sasha?"

He glanced around at the others before nodding and following her into the small hallway. Ruth faced him, staring him down, no mean feat given his considerable height advantage.

"Sasha, this is a bad idea. You might think that it's worth the risk but is it worth your life? No, don't answer, I already know what you'll say. Think about this. Imagine how your father would feel if you got killed. I saw him when you were in the hospital. He was falling apart. Don't do this to him."

Sasha looked away and Ruth sighed, feeling momentarily guilty about her harsh words but relieved that it seemed to have worked. At least, she thought it had worked until Sasha met her gaze again. His eyes were hard.

"I understand. But I also want you to understand. This is my job. I knew the risks when I joined the FSB and so did my father. I have no plans to die at the moment but if I do, then so be it. I have no doubt that you'd do the same in my position." His gaze softened. "I'm sorry, Ruth."

He turned away and returned to the other room, leaving Ruth to stare after him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Sir, we have a lead on the weapons supplier we've been trying to trace."

Sasha looked up at the young FSB agent hopefully. He had been buried in a mass of reports for days, there had been no new leads in the search for the leak or any other case and he was going mad with boredom.

"Where? Who?" The young agent opened his mouth to reply but Sasha cut him off, getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket. "Never mind. You can tell me on the way."

xxx

The two FSB agents walked out of the derelict warehouse, looking dejected. The lead had come to nothing, the warehouse had been thoroughly cleared before Sasha and Alexei had arrived. Sasha paused as they reached the car, glancing back at the warehouse; when he turned back, Alexei was already opening the car door. He saw the wire too late and the car exploded. Sasha was hurled back against the wall of the warehouse. He briefly registered stabbing pain in his head and chest before everything went black.

xxx

He woke to Callum's worried face hovering over him. "Sasha? Are you awake? Come on, talk to me."

"Shut up, Callum," he groaned, putting his hand to his head. His vision once again went black and this time, when he came to, Callum was yelling frantically at him.

"Come on, wake up! Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can hear you," Sasha mumbled. "I just don't know which one of you is speaking."

Callum laughed shakily. "You scared me then. I thought you'd died on me. So, I guess that's a 'yes' to double vision?"

"Mmm. There's four of you. Thought one was bad enough. What are you doing here?"

"We were in the area, saw the explosion," Callum told him. He frowned. "What happened?"

"Car exploded," Sasha said quietly. His words were slurred and he was having trouble focusing. "Alexei? Where is he?"

Callum bit his lip. "Dead. I'm sorry."

Sasha closed his eyes again, trying to push away his guilt and anger.

"Come on, stay awake," Callum urged him. "Dimitri called an ambulance, it'll be here soon."

"Dimitri?" Sasha couldn't concentrate, his head was throbbing and he was becoming increasingly aware of the fire in his chest.

"Yeah, he's here too." As Callum spoke, Dimitri appeared beside him. Sasha's glazed eyes tracked slowly across to him. Dimitri knelt beside the injured FSB agent.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

Sasha's lips twitched into a small smile. "Fantastic," he said softly.

Dimitri smiled. "Sure. Stupid question I suppose. What hurts?"

"Head. Chest," Sasha replied, unable to manage more than one word sentences.

"Okay." Dimitri pushed some of Sasha's hair away from his forehead, examining the deep gash that was still streaming blood. "That's going to need stitches. I guess you already know that you have a concussion. Do you mind if I check your ribs?"

"Go ahead," Sasha whispered. He was struggling to remain conscious; every time he blinked, his eyes remained closed longer than the last.

Dimitri carefully opened Sasha's shirt, wincing sympathetically at the sight of the bruising already developing across the other man's ribs. "This is going to hurt," he told the FSB officer. When he got no reaction he continued, pressing one hand lightly over Sasha's ribcage, feeling ribs shift under his hand. He was worried about the lack of reaction from the Russian. "You have a few broken ribs. You'll need an X-ray to see how many. There doesn't seem to be any internal bleeding, which is good. You should be fine."

"Great." Sasha's voice was weak and Dimitri was glad to hear the sound of sirens approaching.

xxx

Harry and Ruth marched down the hospital corridor towards the treatment room where the doctors had taken Sasha after the ambulance had brought him in. Callum and Dimitri were sitting outside looking bored.

"Is he still in there?" Harry demanded.

"Yep," Callum replied. "The doctor's just finishing up. And trying to persuade him to stay for observation. I can hear him muttering about stubborn idiots and reckless young people from out here."

Harry nodded. "Good." He stormed into the room, Ruth following close behind.

Sasha was sitting on the edge of the examination bed, the doctor wrapping his ribs. Harry glanced at the light board on the wall where the X-rays were pinned. Even with no medical knowledge, Harry could see that there were at least three broken ribs. The doctor looked up, glaring at Harry and Ruth.

"Who are you?" he snapped. The man was old, in his sixties and had a gruff, no nonsense attitude.

"We're friends," Harry replied. 

"Well, I hope you can talk some sense into him. Bloody stubborn idiot. Wants to go waltzing out of here with five broken ribs, three cracked ribs and a concussion. Not to mention more bruises than you could count. What are you thinking?" He returned his rant to Sasha. "A month after three major surgical procedures and you go gallivanting around getting blown up."

Sasha muttered something under his breath in Russian.

"What was that, son? You're going to have to speak up. And speak English."

Sasha gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to give the man a direct translation. "I said, thank you for your concern, doctor, but I'm fine."

The doctor snorted. "I give up. Sit there and stay." The doctor walked out, muttering to himself. As soon as he had gone, Sasha hopped off the exam bed and reached for his shirt. Harry rounded on him.

"The doctor told you to stay. So stay!"

Sasha gave him an amused glance and continued to pull his shirt on with a brief hiss of pain as the movement aggravated his damaged ribs.

Ruth decided to try the more gentle approach. "Sasha, you should stay in the hospital. The doctor's right, you've been through a lot recently."

"I'm fine, Ruth," he insisted.

The door opened again and the doctor walked in. He frowned when he saw his patient standing beside the exam bed. "I thought I told you to stay," he said sternly. He handed over the legal disclaimer forms and his expression softened a bit. "Look, son, it really would be better if we kept you for observation. I don't want to see you back here because you've collapsed. Your body has gone through some serious trauma in the last month. You need time to recover."

"I can't. I have things I need to take care of, and I can't do that from a hospital bed." Sasha quickly signed the forms and handed them back.

The doctor sighed. "On your head be it. Try to take it easy, don't do anything too strenuous."

Sasha nodded. "Thank you." He walked out of the treatment room. Harry and Ruth shot apologetic looks at the doctor before following the FSB officer.

"I hope whatever it is you have to do is worth it," Harry snapped. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to get yourself killed. We told you to be careful, but you just wouldn't listen and you ended up in the hospital. Again."

Sasha stopped abruptly in the middle of the corridor and glared at Harry. "Believe me, it is worth it. I've finally found out who the leak is."


	6. Chapter 6

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, bewildered. "You know who the leak is? Why didn't you tell us before you got yourself blown up?"

"I didn't know before. There was only one person who knew about the lead at that warehouse. You were right, it was Markov."

Harry and Ruth shared a glance. "What are you going to do?" Ruth asked carefully.

Sasha's eyes hardened. "I'm going to kill him." He turned on his heel and strode away from Harry and Ruth who exchanged a quick glance before hurrying after him.

"And you think that will solve everything?" Harry snapped. "By killing Markov, you'll just create more problems for yourself!"

"But no more agents will be killed, which I'll count as a victory."

"Sasha, stop," Ruth pleaded. To both her and Harry's surprise, Sasha did so and fixed them both with an exasperated glare. "Nothing good ever comes of charging into situations without any sort of plan."

Sasha raised an eyebrow. "I have a plan. Kneecap him, then shoot him in the head. Happy?"

He made to walk off again but Ruth grabbed his arm and pulled him back to face her. "That isn't what I meant, and you know it. Markov may know you're on to him. What if he's prepared? You're in no condition to be getting into a fight without backup."

"What would you suggest, Ruth? Waiting? What if another agent gets killed? I won't have that on my conscience."

Harry spoke up. "Fine. We won't stop you dealing with Markov. But take backup. Please."

Sasha's eyebrows shot up at the 'please'. That was not a word that Harry Pearce often used. He relented. "Okay. Who did you have in mind?"

xxxx

"Ruth is going to kill you for this," Sasha said as he and Harry drove towards the FSB headquarters. Harry was driving; Sasha was not getting behind the wheel of his car with a concussion, Harry valued his four years no claims too much for that.

Harry sent a quick glare at his passenger for the note of amusement in Sasha's voice. "More likely she'll kill you for getting me into this."

"You volunteered. I didn't want you to come along."

"It's lovely to feel wanted."

They pulled up outside the building that housed the FSB delegation. Getting out of the car, they stood for a moment outside.

"Are you sure about this, Sasha?" Harry asked.

"Yes." A pause. "I'm sorry for getting you into this, Harry."

Harry smiled. "It's okay. I haven't had this much excitement in years."

Sasha laughed, then abruptly sobered. "Shall we do this?"

Harry nodded. "Let's go."

They walked into the FSB building. As they walked through the door, Sasha grabbed a young techie by the elbow.

"Where's Markov?" he demanded. The unfortunate techie readjusted his glasses, stammering. Sasha shook him slightly. "Where?"

"I don't know, sir. He left, I don't know where he went." The man flinched as though expecting to be hit.

Sasha let him go with a curse. He raised his voice. "Does anyone know where Markov has gone?"

A young woman holding a stack of files answered. "He said he was going to meet an informant, sir."

"Did he tell you the informant's name?"

"No, sir. Sorry, sir."

Sasha nodded, then rounded on the techie again. "I want you to track Markov's phone."

"Why? Is he in trouble?"

"Just do it." Sasha turned to Harry. "He's probably on his way to another agent."

"Do you think he would have left his phone on?" Harry asked.

Sasha's reply was interrupted by the techie. "Got it. He's in Southwark. It looks like he's at the Shard."

Sasha was out of the door almost before the man had finished speaking, Harry hot on his heels. They jumped in Harry's car and he pulled away.

Sasha grinned. "I told you Markov wasn't very bright."

xxxx

"Harry, if you insist on driving, please will you stop driving like you're on your way to collect your pension!"

Harry shot a glare at Sasha. "This is London. In case you hadn't noticed, there's quite a lot of traffic!"

"That's it. Get out, I'm driving."

"What? Over my dead body."

"If that's what it takes. Harry, I can get us there much faster."

Harry relented. "Fine. If we crash, I'm sending you my insurance bill."

Having changed positions while the car was stopped at a red light, Sasha set off to the accompaniment of a chorus of car horns as he pulled out in front of several other cars. Harry clung to his seat as Sasha wove his car in and out of the traffic, faster than he would have dared on a clear road.

"Who taught you to drive? Michael Schumacher?"

"Close. My father. In Moscow."

"That explains so much."

They arrived at the Shard and Sasha pulled over to the side of the road, parking illegally at the junction outside the huge building. Harry silently apologised to all the people who would be stuck in the resulting traffic jam. Though, he thought, it served them right for driving in London instead of taking the Tube. They got out of the car, ignoring more blasts of car horns and hurled obscenities and headed into the Shard, explaining 'Security services' to the airport style security officers who let them through with puzzled nods.

"Have you seen a man come through here, about 6'7", well built, Russian accent?" Harry asked the first man.

"Yeah, a bloke like that came through a few minutes ago. He had a ticket to watch the sunset on the top floor. There was a young woman with him."

Harry and Sasha exchanged alarmed glances and ran for the lift. Harry had to stop himself fidgeting with impatience as the lift approached the 72nd floor of the tallest building in the European Union. As the doors opened they ran out, glancing around desperately. Harry stopped short when he caught sight of Markov, looking out of the windows. He grabbed Sasha's arm and pointed in Markov's direction. But it wasn't Markov that had caught their attention. It was the woman standing beside him.

"Harry… That's…"

"That's Emily."

The young woman turned round and waved at the two men staring in shock and waved.

"Harry. Sasha. So glad you could join us."


	7. Chapter 7

Markov turned and smiled at Sasha, showing far too many teeth, many of them crooked or broken. "Sasha. What brings you here?"

Sasha met the other man's eyes with a level stare that belied the hatred that he felt. "We need to talk, Pyotr. "

Harry addressed Emily. "I thought you were against the partnership with the Russians."

"Oh, I am. Just as Pyotr is against the partnership with us. We make a rather good team."

Sasha snorted. "I should have guessed that you would need someone to do your thinking, Pyotr."

Emily laughed. "Quite. And I needed someone who didn't mind getting his hands dirty. Who better than a Russian?"

Sasha didn't rise to the bait, though Harry could see his fists clench. He decided to chip in. "So, you decided to team up to ruin the partnership? That didn't go as planned, did it?"

Pyotr snarled, but Emily merely smiled. "Indeed. I admit our plan didn't take into account your personal alliances."

"Or Sasha's refusal to die," Pyotr growled. Sasha shot him a taunting grin.

"So what now?" Harry asked. "This face off is all very well, but I suspect that you're not going to come quietly?"

Emily laughed again, sounding incongruously delighted. "Absolutely not! I am delighted that you mentioned that though. You see, naturally, Pyotr is armed. Rather heavily too. He is rather fond of his weapons. It's quite disturbing. And I also have a gun. But I suspect that the two of you are equally well armed. It would seem that we have a deliciously suspenseful stand off on our hands. Wonderful, yes?"

Harry and Sasha shared a glance. "You hired her?" Sasha asked incredulously.

"I wasn't aware that she was insane!"

"You mean it didn't come up in her psych eval? Isn't that meant to tell you if someone's off their rocker?!"

"You hired Markov!"

"I did not! I was busy being unconscious when he was sent here."

"Enough!" Markov roared, drawing glances from the members of the public. He turned to Emily. "Can we get on with this?"

"Yes, we really ought to be getting on," Emily said briskly. She raised her voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, please accept our apologies but this evenings sunset viewing has been cancelled due to a suspicious package being discovered. It is probably nothing to worry about but we are evacuating this level as a safety measure. Please see our reception team for a full refund."

The people began to file out, muttering amongst themselves. Harry relaxed slightly, the worry of innocent civilians being harmed now no longer present. As the last person entered the lift, Emily clapped her hands.

"So, how shall we do this? I think a duel would be nice."

Pyotr scowled. "Or, we could just kill them."

"How unimaginative," Emily sighed. "Russians. No ingenuity or imagination. They should have stuck with Communism."

Sasha glared at her. "You elected Tony Blair and David Cameron. People in glass houses and all that."

She laughed. "Touché."

With surprising speed, she drew her gun and, aiming at Harry, pulled the trigger. Harry felt himself crash to the ground, hearing a gun shot and expecting the pain of a bullet wound. To his surprise, he felt nothing. He opened his eyes, realising for the first time that they were closed and saw Sasha getting to his feet, his own gun aimed at Emily.

"How noble," she taunted. "Saving a British spy. You should have let him die. Then you might have had a chance. Your shooting skills are rather admirable; I have no doubt that you would have been able to shoot both of us had you not been so heroic. As it is, Pyotr will kill you before you can shoot me."

Harry's eyes were drawn to Pyotr, his gun aimed unwaveringly at Sasha. Trying not to draw any attention to himself, he slowly moved his hand towards his gun.

Sasha smiled mirthlessly at Emily. "It'll be worth it."

In the next few seconds it was difficult to distinguish between shots. Four shots were fired, though so close together they sounded together; three people fell.

Harry got to his feet. In the last possible second, he had drawn his gun and fired at Pyotr. Apparently his bullet had hit home as the enormous Russian lay spread eagled on the floor, blood spreading out in a pool around him. Emily was also dead, a bullet in the centre of her forehead, eyes staring lifelessly up at the ceiling. Sasha was getting slowly to his feet, progress hampered by the concussion and broken ribs. One hand was held to his arm where a bullet had grazed it, leaving a shallow cut that was still leaking blood. He glared at Harry.

"You need to go back to firearms training. Lesson number one: don't shoot the person you're trying to save!"

"Stop complaining. It's not that bad. And it's your own fault for getting in the way."

"I don't like you very much."

"That's not a very nice thing to say to someone who just saved your life."

"Fine. Thank you for saving my life. Next time, please don't shoot me whilst doing so."


	8. Chapter 8

Harry, Ruth and Sasha stood in the arrivals area of Heathrow, waiting for the passengers of the Domodedovo to Heathrow with trepidation. Ilya Gavrik, having heard of the exploits of his son in London, had got on the next plane out of Moscow. Harry had received a pleading phone call from Sasha that morning, asking for moral support (and, Harry privately thought, an extra target for Ilya's wrath) and Harry had grudgingly agreed. He had taken Ruth as well, hoping for a moderator.

An elbow to the ribs alerted Harry to Ilya's arrival. He glanced at Sasha, who looked more nervous in the face of his father's ire than when confronted by a six foot tall Russian gorilla with a gun.

"Sasha!" Ilya Gavrik exclaimed, embracing his son. Sasha winced as the hug began to cut off his oxygen supply.

"Father… Did I mention the broken ribs?"

Ilya let go as though he'd been burnt. "Did you fail to mention anything else? Bear in mind that if you lie, I'll find out from Harry."

Sasha laughed nervously. "That won't be necessary. I think I told you everything…"

"And if he didn't, it might just be a side effect of the concussion," Harry added helpfully.

Gavrik's eyes widened comically for a second, then he rounded on Harry. "Concussion?" He returned his glare to his son. "You and I are going to have a little talk about the definition of 'everything'. Apparently your English tuition wasn't as good as I thought." The glare that Sasha shot in Harry's direction left him no doubt that his English tuition hadn't left out swear words, several of which would be aimed in at the head of Section D later.

"Father…"

"You are not too old for me to ground you, Sasha. Understand?" Sasha nodded mutely. "I need a drink."

Gavrik stalked away through the arrivals area. Sasha watched him go. "I think I could do with a drink or ten too. I'd quite like to be drunk for this conversation." He followed his father, Harry and Ruth tagging along behind him.

xxx

The four of them sat at a corner table in a nearby pub. Four empty pint glasses sat in front of the two Russians. Ilya was now halfway through his third pint of Peroni; Sasha had switched to vodka. Harry was nursing a glass of Glenfiddich 18 and Ruth had lemonade, thinking that one of them should remain sober.

Ilya apparently had decided that he had enough alcohol in his system to breach the subject of the recent FSB activity. "So. What on earth happened for you to end up with broken ribs and a concussion? Did I not tell you to be careful?"

Sasha downed the last of his vodka. He, Harry thought, clearly didn't have enough alcohol in his system to have this conversation. "Well, it's a long story…"

"I have all day." Ilya wasn't going to give an inch. His previous experience of his son was that if he was given an inch, he would take a mile.

"Right. I need another drink."

"I'll get it," Harry offered, glad of an excuse to get out of the awkward situation.

"I'll help," Ruth said quickly. They left the Gavriks to talk and made their way to the bar.

"One double vodka, a Peroni and a Glenfiddich, please," Harry told the barman. "If it takes a while to get the drinks then all the better." The barman nodded, smiling. "I wouldn't want to be Sasha right now," Harry commented. "Ilya's like a dog with a bone, he's not going to give this up easily."

"I almost feel bad for leaving him," Ruth replied. She smiled. "But not enough to hurry back."

Harry laughed. "That's not very nice."

"I don't see you rushing to Sasha's aid. Still scared of Ilya?"

"I've never been scared of Ilya. I just have a healthy respect for the blackmail stories he has about me." The barman put the drinks on the bar. Harry sighed. "I suppose we should return to the warzone."

Heading back to the table, Harry set the glass of vodka in front of Sasha and the lager in front of Ilya. Sasha knocked back the vodka in a single gulp. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Drunk enough for this conversation yer?"

Sasha grimaced. "Not even close." A ringing phone interrupted whatever Ilya was about to say in reply. All four of them searched their pockets until Sasha held up his phone. He answered it. "Nikolai, congratulations, you've just been promoted and earned a medal for saving your superior officer from a potentially life threatening situation." He excused himself from the table with a smile that ended up more delighted than apologetic.

Ilya glared after him. "That son of mine will be the death of me."

Harry laughed. "The joys of fatherhood, Ilya. The older they get, the worse they are."

Sasha returned. "I'm needed at headquarters. Can we do this some other time, father?"

Ilya grinned. "No need, Sasha. I'll come with you. It's time I saw how the delegation is getting on."

Sasha's face fell. "Really, father…"

"No, no. It will be a pleasure."

"Right. Fine. Come on." Sasha sighed. "If I believed in a higher power, I'd say that someone up there hates me."

Harry and Ruth waved goodbye as the two Russians left, schooling their features into suitably sympathetic expressions. As the door of the pub swung shut behind them, however, the two spooks burst out laughing. Harry lifted his glass of whiskey.

"Cheers," he laughed. Ruth clinked her glass against his.

"To absent friends," she toasted. Her eyes met Harry's and once again, their laughter filled the small pub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of my completed multi-chapter fics. I will post the unfinished ones soon and hopefully finish them this time!


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